The Women of Bayberry Cove. Cynthia Thomason
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he determined that Louise Duncan’s black BMW wasn’t anywhere in sight, Wes parked under a couple of tall, sweeping sea pines. He walked toward the houseboat, scanning the yard until he was convinced Louise wasn’t there. Then he fixed his gaze on the picnic table where Jamie’s dog, Beasley, was napping. The long-legged beast opened his golden eyes, crawled out from under the table and emitted a low-pitched bark of welcome. Then he plopped down at Wesley’s feet.
Wesley scratched behind one of the animal’s floppy ears. “Hey, Beas, how are you? Energetic as ever, I see.”
Jamie burst out the door of the Bucket O’ Luck and strode toward them. “Wes Fletcher, I heard you were home.” He held out his hand. “Good to see you.”
“Same here.” Wes resumed a reconnaissance of the property while answering Jamie’s questions about his retirement.
After a few minutes of conversation, Jamie snapped his fingers to get Wes’s attention. “She’s not here, buddy.”
Wes was forced to focus on Jamie’s face. “Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The heck you don’t. I’m talking about Louise Duncan, who stopped by here yesterday after you doused her with what she described as some sort of sewage.”
Wes scrunched up his face. “It wasn’t sewage. It was rusty water from the kitchen pipes. And did she mention that she gave as good as she got?”
Jamie smiled. “Oh, yeah. That was the part of the story she enjoyed telling most.”
Wes shook his head. “She’s one strange woman. Bossy, pushy, demanding…”
“Don’t forget drop-dead gorgeous,” Jamie added.
Wes laughed. “I guess that’s true, too. And determined. She wouldn’t take no for an answer when it came to renting the cottage.”
“We heard. Frankly, my wife, whom you haven’t met, but who is the sweetest woman on this green earth, is a little ticked at you. She was hoping you’d move in with your dad.”
Wes shrugged. “I’ve been given a grant from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration to fund a project on marine ecology. I need to be on the water.”
“Why didn’t you tell Louise that? She might have understood why living at the cottage was so important to you.”
“She didn’t seem interested in anyone’s motives but her own. And have you ever tried to get a word in with her?”
Jamie chuckled. “A few times. Your point’s well taken.”
“So where are the women now?”
“You just missed Vicki. She drove into Bayberry Cove to meet Louise at the Kettle. She stayed at a motel in Morgan City last night, but she’s determined to find a place in town to rent for a couple of months so she can just sort of kick back.”
Wes pictured the Bayberry Cove Kettle at eight-thirty on a Saturday morning. The restaurant would be packed, and he had no doubt who in the crowd would be the center of attention.
LOUISE TURNED ONTO Main Street and looked at the digital clock on her dashboard. Already ten minutes late, she reluctantly slowed to a frustrating, but law-abiding, thirty-five miles an hour and scanned the street for available parking. She settled for a spot two blocks away from the Bayberry Cove Kettle, got out of her car and walked briskly to the entrance.
She threaded her way through the crowded restaurant to where her friend was seated. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, hanging her purse over the back of the chair and sitting down.
“Don’t apologize. I only got here five minutes ago. I took my time, since I remembered it was you I was meeting.”
“Funny.” A pleasant-looking waitress came to the table. “What’s good here?” Louise asked Vicki.
“Everything’s great, isn’t that right, Bobbi Lee?” Vicki said.
Louise gave Vicki a knowing look. So this well-rounded waitress in the red-checkered dress was the notorious Bobbi Lee Blanchard she’d heard so much about, the woman who’d lusted after Jamie Malone for years.
“Not a bad choice on the whole menu,” Bobbi confirmed.
“In that case,” Louise said, “I’ll have two eggs over light, hash browns, wheat toast and a side of bacon. And, of course, coffee—large.”
Vicki ordered scrambled eggs and an English muffin and waited until Bobbi Lee had gone to place the order before she said, “What happened to yogurt and fresh fruit?”
Louise shrugged. “I’m in the country now. Fresh air makes me hungry.” She pointed to Vicki’s bulging belly. “It could be worse. Look what it did to you.”
They chatted about Vicki’s store in Fort Lauderdale, her new house, the wood carvings Jamie was sending to a Boston gallery for a summer showing. “Enough about my life,” Vicki said when they’d finished their meal and were sipping coffee. “Be honest, Lulu. How are you going to stay in Bayberry Cove for two months? You’re going to die of boredom.”
“No, I won’t. I like this town. It’s cute and cozy. With the exception of Wesley Fletcher, the people seem nice. I’ll find things to do. Maybe I’ll help you shop for baby stuff.”
Vicki’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “You? Baby shopping? One trip to Infants ’R Us in Morgan City and you’ll be begging for mercy.”
Louise nodded. “Maybe. But I’d like to give the town a try—if I can find a place to stay. I’m not driving nearly twenty miles each way to the motel.”
Vicki set her mug on the table. “Sorry things didn’t work out for Buttercup Cottage. And even sorrier that Wes gave you such a hard time. I’ve never met him, but Jamie’s always told me what a super guy he is.”
Louise arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Believe me, Vic, there are things about him that definitely fall into the super category.”
“Ah…so what Bobbi Lee just told me is true. Commander Fletcher is a hunk.”
Louise smiled. “Close enough. He’s way too clean-cut for my taste, but with a little roughing up, he could be the mountain man of my dreams.”
“Somehow I can’t see a career navy guy turning into Grizzly Adams.”
Louise was about to respond when Bobbi Lee returned. “Can I get you anything else, ladies?”
Louise grabbed the check just as a customer approached the table demanding Bobbi’s attention.
“Hi, Earnest,” she said. “You want the usual?”
“That’ll be fine, Bobbi Lee. Just wrap it up and I’ll take it back upstairs to my apartment. I’ve got a whole day’s worth of bookkeeping ahead of me.”
Louise stared at the man’s balding pate as he walked behind Bobbi Lee toward the counter. “Vicki, did you hear what that man said?”
Vicki tucked a strand of honey-blond hair behind her ear. “Something about a take-out order.”
“Right. An order he can take up to his apartment.” She pointed to the ceiling. “His apartment upstairs.”
Vicki was clearly baffled. “So?”
“This street is lined with two-story buildings. There must be living quarters on the second floor of most of them. All I have to do is find one that’s empty.”
“What are you going to do?” Vicki asked. “Check every building on the street?”
“If I have to.”
“Would you like me to help? I promised Jamie I’d work with him on his exhibit today, but he’ll understand.”
“No. Go on home to